


The Man She Killed

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-04
Updated: 2006-03-03
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8075848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Vulcan passion can be deadly. (02/24/2004)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

If T'Pol had been her usual self, she would have realized that it was an accident.

Then again, if T'Pol had been her usual self, the catastrophe never would have happened.

It was a horrible accident.

Her thirst for passion somewhat quenched, she looked at the lifeless body beside her and felt ill. She would have been better off to die herself than to kill him.

She had warned him that Vulcan mating was intense. She had told him that she would lose control, was losing control as she spoke, that she could not promise to be careful. He had been willing to take the risk.

How he died, she was not sure. Perhaps suffocation; Doctor Phlox would be able to declare a cause of death.

How exactly he died did not matter. He was dead because of her, and that was all that mattered.

His body, before straining to accommodate her needs, responding vigorously to her touch, caressing her bare skin, now began to cool. The small marks her teeth had left became more pronounced against the paling skin on his shoulder.

She did not know how long she remained there and looked at him. Orders had been given not to disturb them.

Except now only she was left.

Her need to be with someone had killed him. She did not know if she could live with that.

He had been a good mate. Physically, he met her needs, but his loyalty, his devotion, even his human passions, when tempered, were all qualities that made him acceptable to mate with. He had been willing to copulate with her, but when he came to her quarters, he seemed more than willing. He came out of more than duty.

She would have asked him what else brought him, if she had not killed him first.

Down his strong chest were the marks her fingernails had made when she ran to him and pulled him onto her bed, undressing him on the way. She had needed him so badly.

She killed him. How could she live, spending the rest of her life knowing she had killed him?

* * *

He knew he wasn't supposed to bother them, but they had been nearly forty hours without leaving her quarters, so he thought he'd bring breakfast down to them. If they were-well, busy, he could just leave the tray of food outside the door. But to his surprise, T'Pol's voice bid him enter.

That was how Commander Tucker came to see T'Pol, without so much as a stitch of clothing on, lying on her bed next to the stiffening body of his best friend and captain.


	2. Chapter 2

The clatter sounded very far away.

In reality, Commander Tucker was standing only a few meters from her. The forgotten tray of food at his feet had obviously been intended for her and Jonathan.

Did she have the right to use his first name after she killed him?

"Cap'n!"

"Captain Archer is dead." She did not understand the human compunction to state the obvious.

The bowl spilled its contents, making a gentle, soothing noise as soup ran out on to the floor of her quarters.

She needed to focus. She needed to meditate. She would survive the pon farr, but her mental discipline needed time and meditation to return to normal efficiency.

The commander was shaking Jonathan's body as if it would bring him back to life.

Jonathan again. She remembered so vividly the look on his face when she pushed herself on him and began kissing him, needing him. She remembered the feel of his strong hands caressing her back as she pulled him onto her bed.

"What happened?" No response. What was wrong with T'Pol? He thought that a tumble in the proverbial hay and she'd be good as new.

"T'Pol!"

"Captain Archer is dead."

"What the hell went on?"

She fixed him with an intense look. "I killed him." His face was fixed into something resembling a smile. There was a human painting, the Mona Lisa, that was known for the questions surrounding the facial expression of the model. That was how Jonathan looked. It was a peaceful pose.

The soup had finished running on to the floor. Only a few milliliters remained in the bowl.

She was the few milliliters left. Destined to stay and suffer.

When had she picked up the human tendency to draw parallels between two dissimilar events?

She had also picked up a human tendency to extreme self-reproach and guilt. She tried to focus on the future. Summoning all the focus she had, she tried to imagine going on with the knowledge that she had killed her captain. Her friend.

She could not do it.

"I said that you better start explainin' yourself pretty damn fast!"

"There is no need to raise your voice, Commander."

"Why did you kill him?"

It was not a question of why, but how. She knew why.

Because he came to her when she needed him.

"Do you think I wanted to kill him?" It seemed disrespectful to use the pronoun.

"I don't know what I think!"

The guilt would consume her. Even if it didn't, she would never be able to mate again. The fear would stop her. Seven years, now, it hardly seemed to matter.

She knew now how her ancestors felt before they learned to control their emotions.

She stood up for the first time since she had found out what she had done. There was one thing she needed to do first.

After tipping the bowl so that the rest of the soup ran out, she stood straight. "I killed your best friend. You were closer to him than any other. Under the ancient Vulcan laws of _tinara_ , it is you who may take my life in return for his."

"I'm not takin' your life. I'm takin' you to the brig."

She stepped forward. "Kill me." Her voice dripped with malice.

It was the first time anyone had ever asked Trip to kill them.

She could still feel him on her, inside her, and her mind dancing around the edges of his. It intensified her guilt.

"It is the only way my _katra_ can achieve peace."

She had heard someone in San Francisco say that jealousy was the worst emotion. They were wrong.

Guilt was far worse.


	3. Chapter 3

"Tucker to Bridge."

Hoshi sounded tired. "Bridge here. What can I do for you, sir?"

"What are you doing?"

"Send a security team to Sub-Commander T'Pol's quarters."

T'Pol lunged, and he braced himself for an attack that never came. He was not her target.

She closed the comm link and sealed the doors.

"You are the only one who may kill me."

How could she sound so calm?

"You are the only one who can give my _katra_ peace." She backed away from him slowly, never taking her eyes off his.

"I'm not gonna kill you, T'Pol."

"I killed your best friend."

"Killin' you isn't gonna bring 'im back." Had she heard the sob he choked back? Probably. Those ears didn't miss much.

"You may chose your weapon. I will not resist." Was she crazy? Did she honestly expect him to kill her?

"We need to get you to Sickbay."

"I am not sick."

He let that slide. "We also need Doc to figure out the cause of death."

"I am the cause of death!" Oh, now she was agitated.

He used to wonder what an agitated Vulcan would be like.

It was like eatin' of the same fruit Adam and Eve did.

"Did you want to kill him?" Later, he would let himself cry. Later, he would let himself hate her.

"My intentions are irrelevant. You must kill me."

Now he had to save her.


	4. Chapter 4

The security team was at the door, but T'Pol would not let them in.

She could face Commander Tucker. After Jonathan, she knew him better than anyone else on Enterprise. The thought of him seeing her this way was hideous, but necessary. The thought of anyone else seeing her so vulnerable, so flawed, so condemned, was far more hideous than the thought of that condemnation itself.

Actually, she was not afraid of death.

Her life had become what she had heard referred to by humans as a "living hell," so death could only bring relief.

The Commander tried in vain to unlock the doors while simultaneously watching her.

Perhaps he thought that if he killed her, he would become like her. Perhaps he did not realize the necessity of her own death.

The soup no longer made a soft hiss when she stepped on the spot where it flowed into the carpet.

He turned and looked at her. "I'm not killin' you, T'Pol. I know it seems like the easy way out, but you can get through this." He probably thought she did not hear his added comment a moment later. "And so can I."

"There is no other alternative."

"You're just not lookin' hard enough."

No doubt the security team was frantically trying to contact them now. She had silenced the comm system.

The stain was all that was left of the soup now.

"It is your duty. It is your privilege."

"You didn't want to kill the Cap'n. That ain't murder, T'Pol. It's an accident. I can't kill you for something you didn't want to do."

A sense of urgency was growing within her. She did not anticipate that the emotional man before her would be so stubborn, so ironically logical.

"It is the only thing left to do." For a Vulcan, she was on the verge of hysteria.

Suddenly she felt an unnatural heat enveloping her. Although she felt no pain, she deduced that finally Commander Tucker had killed her.

Instead, she found herself on the transporter platform, the Commander still facing her.

Lieutenant Reed personally restrained her.

"Bring her to Sickbay." Instead of killing her, he was going to drag out her punishment, force her to interact with the friends of the man she killed.

For one who had been espousing mercy in her quarters, he was being very cruel.

"We have an additional problem, sir," reported Lieutenant Reed.

"What's that, Malcolm?" She did not understand his lack of formality, addressing the armory officer by his first name instead of his rank.

"The Vulcan ship _T'Ly_."

Basically, the Vulcans were checking up on them, making sure that the galaxy was not suffering much at human hands.

Of course they would not say that. Instead, they came because they "wished to offer Captain Archer an updated star chart of the area his ship was approaching." Later, Trip saw the map. A nebula had been made slightly larger on the new version.

Hoshi seemed surprised when he walked on to the bridge. "No offense, sir, but they wanted to talk to the Captain..." she trailed off.

"They're gonna hafta settle for me." She pressed a button, and a Vulcan woman appeared on the screen.

"Greetings, Commander. I take it Captain Archer is unavailable?"

"Yes."

"May I inquire when he will be available?" He didn't know the name of the Vulcan captain, but she was obviously not impressed that she was such a low priority.

"Captain Archer is dead."

The entire bridge crew gasped. The Vulcan captain was nonplussed.

"That is unfortunate." Silence. "How did he die?"

"It was an accident. We don't know yet exactly what happened."

Phlox had damn bad timing. When Hoshi answered his hail, he asked if the linguist knew what tinara was.

The Vulcan captain looked at him as though if she looked hard enough, he might spontaneously explode. "I take it this accident involved Sub-Commander T'Pol."

"I can't tell you what happened yet. We have to investigate..."

She cut him off. "It is vitally important that the Sub-Commander come aboard the _T'Ly_ immediately. Her sanity may be at stake."

I _know_ , he thought to himself. "She's in Sickbay." Somehow, even after all she had done, he felt the need to protect her from her own people.

"We will come get her."

"I don't think that's a very good idea."

"She speaks of _tinara_?"

He fought the urge to hang his head. "Yes."

"Do you know what she wants, Commander?"

"Yes."

"Then you know why this is urgent." He did not know how to help her. The Vulcans knew that.

"Doctor, please prepare T'Pol for a short visit to the _T'Ly_." He emphasized short, though he knew that her visit would be anything but short. "No more than three Vulcans will arrive in Sickbay shortly."

Did they know how to help her?

"I don't think that's a very good idea, Commander. The Sub-Commander..."

Trip cut him off. "She will be cared for by the Vulcans."

It hurt like hell to say that.

He was not surprised when they returned without her to collect a few items of importance from her quarters. Since they arrived, he had known it would come to this.

"Will she be okay?" he finally asked. He knew the answer was no, but he had to ask.

"She will undergo _Kolinahr_ to purge her emotions. In time, she will recover from this incident."

"And then?"

The tall Vulcan exhaled. "She will most likely spend her life in a monastery."

And that was it.

Her life was ruined. T'Pol was a scientist. She wouldn't be happy in a monastery. They would indoctrinate her, take away everything that made her unique and different and alive, and stick her away in a monastery where they could keep an eye on her. They would reduce her until she could no longer feel unhappy about the prospect.

It was the only way the Vulcans knew to deal with grief of the magnitude T'Pol was experiencing.

There were other ways. He might have suggested them, might've done things differently if Phlox hadn't broken in.

Then again, could he deal with life helping T'Pol recover from killing Jon?

Would he have wished he killed her in the beginning?

There was a stain on the carpet in her quarters. It must've been from the food platter he brought in.

Jon's body was gone, the funeral would start soon, but he could still see his best friend's body on her bed, with the woman who never meant to kill him right beside him.

He had saved her. Then he had allowed them to damn her to life like an old robot. No feeling, nothing at all besides automatic actions to keep the body alive. He had saved her, only to turn around and kill her soul.

He was right not to kill her. But what had happened- well, in the end maybe it was a _tinara_ after all. A _tinara_ of the soul.


End file.
